Minecraft: A Love Story
by Fractured Artifact No. 248
Summary: Two strangers appear. They are in a strange land, that is barren and hostile and hot. But they survive together, whatever the weather, and set up a little green plot. But something else grows, besides crops of wheat, and they find treasure other than gold. They can fight it and run. Or embrace the emotions. Watch as the story unfolds! (A love poem)
1. The Journey Begins

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The United Confederation of People With Too Much Time On Their Hands

Present:

 **Minecraft: A Love Story**

We present for your perusal a love story in three dimensions, but no curves. Our story begins in the Minecraft world, in a desert biome that is unusually large. Two players spawn, strangers in this strange land, spawn close together slap-bang in the middle of a biome that takes three days to walk across and offers neither resources nor shelter. They decide that the only way to get through this, is together. And really, isn't that what love is all about?

We have taken a few creative liberties, and the story will deviate somewhat from normal Minecraft gameplay. However, this story remains true to the essence of the game.

The rhyme and meter scheme is taken from Lewis Carroll's The Hunting of the Snark, which can be read for free online.

We are legally obligated to inform you we have no creative rights to anything we are writing about.

* * *

The Journey Begins

The desert was dry.  
The sand dunes burned hot,  
With no life to be found in the place.  
And the biome extended  
Beyond the horizon,  
Whichever direction you faced.

Not a tree to be seen.  
Not a rock to crawl under.  
No water in puddle or pond.  
It could not be expected  
To survive in this place.  
So, naturally, here's where they spawned.

Two different players  
Popped into the world,  
Appearing a few blocks away.  
These strangers regarded  
Each other, surprised,  
And wondered: "How would this thing play?"

Thought One of the Other:  
"Do we go separate ways  
To never be met with again?"  
Thought the Other of One:  
"Should I beat him up  
Steal his stuff after he's slain?"

They pondered their options.  
They weighed all the risks.  
And finally, it was agreed.  
They would travel together  
Across the horizon.  
To the setting sun, they would proceed.

Side by side they marched  
Straight on through the desert;  
Never varied an inch right or left.  
But the sand and the scrub  
Seemed to go on forever.  
The horizon, of hope still bereft.

Surely a desert  
Can't go on forever.  
It should give way to water or trees.  
But hour after hour,  
They saw nothing else,  
But a desolate sand-colored sea.

The sunlight turned red.  
The shadows grew long.  
A full moon climbed into the sky.  
In the dark of the night,  
The monsters would rise.  
Our heroes were both going to die.

They had not seen all day  
The least vestige of rock  
To carve out a shelter and hide.  
Nor saw they a tree  
To whittle a torch  
To use the light it would provide.

No hole to crawl into.  
No light in the dark.  
What to do, they could not tell.  
Then they both heard  
Zombie groans behind them,  
And decided they should run like hell.

They bounded and ran  
From zombies and spiders;  
Escaping by margins and narrows.  
They zig-zagged away  
From skeleton's aim,  
Which (somehow) could shoot them with arrows.

Frantic and scared  
Without light to see,  
One fell down into a pit.  
As he tumbled and crashed,  
Zombies followed him down.  
He thought this was, as they say, "it".

Trapped in a hole  
Filling with the undead,  
He thought he would die in this place.  
Then, from above,  
The Other jumped in  
Landing on a zombie's face.

With renewed vim and vigor,  
They shot out of the hole;  
Frightened, and tired, but all right.  
And then, hand in hand,  
These, now life-long, friends  
Ran screaming into the night.


	2. A Safe Place

A Safe Place

The full moon waned.  
The night grew brighter.  
The zombies all burst into flame.  
They had survived!  
But a whole night spent running,  
And the desert landscape was the same!

Then they saw to the South,  
A small block of green,  
Just visible over the dune.  
They took off at once  
and chased the mirage,  
Believing they'd find relief soon.

They crested the dune  
And found an oasis:  
A small patch of green grass and trees.  
You could transmigrate it  
In seventeen seconds.  
Never-the-less, they were pleased.

The desert stretched on  
In every direction.  
The horizon was nothing but sand.  
But here in this patch,  
Was a place they could live.  
A tiny, but sure, promised land.

They harvested trees.  
They had wood for tools,  
And apples abated their hunger.  
Then to recoup  
The trees they had felled,  
Planted them in the same number.

A table was fashioned  
For crafting them items,  
Like small tools and chests that were big.  
With shovels in hand  
(And pickaxes, too),  
They rolled up and started to dig.

The desert at last  
Made use of itself.  
Sand could be made into sandstone.  
A contingent of cacti  
Planted 'round the patch  
Would keep monsters out of their new home.

The sun began setting,  
But they were prepared  
With a sturdy, secure sandstone hut.  
As the monsters came out,  
They retreated within,  
And made sure the oak door was shut.

Having no wool for beds,  
They went digging instead;  
Tunneling all through the night.  
They found stone for a furnace,  
And dug up some coal  
To make torches to give them some light.

When the sun rose,  
They went back to the surface  
To find that some saplings did grow.  
A zombie had died  
Walking into cacti,  
And the stupid thing dropped a potato.

They harvested trees,  
And hoed up the dirt  
To plant eyes and seeds for a crop.  
Then with their furnace,  
And way to much sand,  
Made, for the hut's windows, glass blocks.

Then the sun set again,  
And the cycle repeats,  
As it would for days upon weeks.  
They would toil in the day,  
And dig in the night,  
Making their desert less bleak.

Hour by hour,  
And bit by bit,  
Their patch became better and better.  
Where once they were barely  
Adhering to life,  
Now they were prosperous settlers.

Their patch was protected  
By stone walls and cacti.  
Their fields, once meager, now sprawling.  
Their hut, now a fort,  
With dungeons and storage.  
Their larder and vaults overflowing.

They had some silk thread  
From a fight with some spiders,  
And woven wool for their beds.  
And their large house  
Had plenty of rooms,  
They bedded together instead


	3. Looking for Treasure

Looking for Treasure

They grew malcontent  
With their little patch.  
They dreamt of the biomes out there:  
Sprawling Savannahs,  
Heaven-High Mountains,  
And a house they did not have to share.

They gathered supplies:  
Food, tools, and armor.  
They packed up their ingots and coal.  
They set out to the South,  
Through desert forbidding,  
leaving the patch they called home.

In a day and a night,  
They emerged from the desert,  
Which ended against mountain range.  
They paused for a moment,  
Gave each other a look,  
And headed their separate ways.

After some time had passed,  
And much work was done,  
One of them had a new home.  
Carved out of a mountain,  
With caverns below,  
And a valley where animals roamed.

Large sweeping fields,  
Abundant with wheat,  
With carrots, and pumpkins, and cane.  
He had herds of chattel:  
Cow, sheep, and fowl,  
And a warren of rabbits he'd tamed.

Deep under the mountain,  
He'd dug to find treasure:  
Coal, iron, and gold excavated.  
He often found red stone,  
And lapis lazuli,  
Some diamonds he even located.

He'd tended these crops,  
Tamed these animals,  
And carved his wealth out of the earth.  
Yet, something was missing;  
A hole yet unfilled.  
Unhappy, what was it all worth?

As he pondered this quandary,  
His mind harkened back  
To his toiling days in the patch.  
Though they had wanted,  
They always were happy.  
What had they there, here could not match?

He resolved to seek out  
This ethereal trait,  
Buried in that patch of dirt.  
So, he packed up his stuff,  
And led all his chattel  
In a caravan into the desert.

The going was slow.  
It took many days.  
The sheep always tried to escape.  
Finally, they arrived  
At his old, little patch;  
It's familiar and desolate shape.

He then saw some hounds  
That were guarding the door,  
Noticed jungle trees growing about.  
He wondered who came  
To squat in this place,  
And that's when the Other came out.

The greetings were warm.  
They were beckoned inside,  
Where they began to reminisce  
Of what they had done,  
And where they had been,  
And how they had come back to this.

Said One to the Other:  
"I built a large house.  
I built fields and tunnels below.  
I made items, and armor,  
And tools, and books.  
I could not make myself happy, though."

Said the Other to One:  
"I went many places.  
I saw more biomes than I could share.  
I found many plants.  
I found temples, old.  
But I could not find joy anywhere."

One reached for the Other,  
Intertwining their fingers,  
And suggested a workable plan:  
"I'll make you happy,  
If you help me find joy."  
He smiled and held onto his hand.


	4. City Builders

City Builders

They dug up the desert.  
They made tons of sandstone,  
And constructed a palace, resplendent.  
With large halls and rooms,  
Libraries, and larder,  
For crafting, potions, and enchantment.

They brought heaps of soil,  
Assembled large fields;  
Livestock, in ponderous herds.  
Every plant you could name,  
They grew a large crop.  
It was architecture beyond words.

Around their great palace,  
They built smaller homes.  
What's a castle if you have no kingdom?  
From far and away,  
Villagers came  
To live in the houses they built them.

A great wall surrounded.  
Street lights were erected.  
The city hadn't a shadow to haunt.  
Golems patrolled  
And beat zombies brainless.  
They gave flowers to children who want.

The streets grew tall trees.  
The town squares had fountains.  
The kingdom had beauty unmatched.  
In the city center,  
There was a small park.  
It was the original patch.

The One and the Other  
Look over their city,  
And plan the next thing to construct.  
They still till the fields.  
They still dig the mines.  
They maintain the town aqueducts.

Though they build and aren't finished,  
And dig without ending,  
The two of them: they are content.  
For One has the Other.  
The Other has One.  
Together, through any event.

They don't merely build buildings  
With wood and with stone.  
They are building a kingdom within.  
Their memories are blocks.  
Their love is cement.  
He is a treasure to him.

Love is a treasure  
That cannot be made  
By forging together rare metals.  
Nor can it be found  
Digging under the ground.  
Except when you're mining together.

The End

(And they all lived happily ever after)


End file.
